The Prince and the Spindle
by TheEpicPenguin
Summary: A gender-bend version of Sleeping Beauty. Prince Rory of Glairwen is cursed by a vengeful sorcerer to sleep for all eternity. The Princess Petra might be his only chance at True Love's Kiss—but what is True Love? Does it happen at first sight, or does it run far deeper? Based upon the popular Disney movie, but with original content as well.
1. Chapter 1: The Curse

**Author's Note:**

Hi, everyone!

I don't know about you, but I _love _gender-bend fairy tales. I was inspired to write this story after seeing Doro's Sleeping Beauty Genderbend artwork on Tumblr. You guys should all go check her out— . This is largely how I envisioned the characters in my head as I was writing. She's amazing!

Every fanfic's gotta have disclaimers, so here we go:

1. As I said in the summary, this story is based off of the Disney movie. Some things will be similar, some things won't be. Obviously, I don't own any of the Disney tropes.

2. I also wanted to say that I didn't make up the term "Sparrow Men" for male fairies. I adopted it from Gail Carson Levine's _Fairy Dust and the Quest for the Egg, _which is a beautiful book and in my opinion a great model for aspiring fantasy writers.

This story will have 8 or 9 chapters and an epilogue, most of which I have already finished. If you like it, I'll post more. Gender-bend is new territory for me, but I'm excited to venture forth with you guys!

-EpicPenguin

* * *

_The Prince and the Spindle_

Once upon a time, the kingdom of Glairwen was entrapped in a great war with the neighboring land of Gothiel. Gothiel, a realm of magic, was ruled by a wicked sorcerer, Rhaokros, and under his rule the two kingdoms had a long and bloody history. He had placed a curse on King Theodore of Glairwen and his wife, Miriam: as long as Rhaokros lived, the king and the queen would be unable to have a child. To protect his people from the sorcerer and in his desperation to preserve his family line, King Theodore gathered an army and mounted an attack on Gothiel. Hundreds of his men were slain, but their deaths were not in vain: Rhaokros was defeated, perishing on the end of the king's blade, and his son, Malefor, fled the land.

For a time, Theodore's triumph brought peace to Glairwen, and to his and Miriam's joy, one day the queen felt the nausea of morning sickness.

"We're going to have a child at last!" she said to Theodore, tears rolling down her cheeks.

In another nine months, she gave birth to a healthy baby boy, whom they named Rory. On the day of the prince's christening, nobles poured in from all corners of the kingdom to meet their future ruler. Even for the peasants, the king declared the day a holiday, and passed out food parcels to every family.

But that wasn't all. As the king and queen welcomed the crowd, a gentle breeze suddenly blew through the throne room, and with it appeared an envoy of three male fairies, called the Sparrow Men. Their leader, Aspen, approached the king and bowed low. He was well-built, with elegant moth's wings protruding from his back.

"Your majesty, we—the magical folk of Gothiel—are endlessly grateful to you for freeing us from Rhaokros' tyrannical rule."

"To show our appreciation, we've been sent with special gifts for the prince," said the second, whose name was Cedar.

"A prince has little need of material things, so each of us will bestow the boy with a single magical gift," added the third, Pine.

Theodore nodded, smiling, and the three proceeded to the cradle where the baby lay asleep.

"Prince Rory, I give you the gift of bravery," said Aspen, letting a shower of fairy dust fall into the cradle. After him, Cedar stepped up.

"Young prince, my gift to you is a loving heart." He gently placed his finger on Rory's chest, before letting his own dust cascade down.

Eagerly, Pine came forward, planning to bless the boy with the gift of wisdom, fitting for a future king. He had barely opened his mouth to speak, however, when a powerful wind suddenly swept through the hall. It blew out all the candles, plunging the room into darkness. Then, in a burst of green flame, a dark figure appeared, a raven perched on his shoulder.

"No. It can't be!" the king cried. There was no mistaking it, however. The sorcerer looked just like his father, with his sleek black hair and his gray lips parted in a hideous grin. Malefor walked forward, his elegant staff clunking ominously on the stone floor.

"Ah, King Theodore," he said, his voice as slithering as a serpent's. "What a pleasure to see you again after all this time…and on such a _joyous _occasion, too."

"Malefor. How dare you come here?" said the king. "I thought you had left these realms for good!"

"Exile just doesn't suit me. Besides, how could I miss such a grand celebration?" he said. He turned to the queen, giving her a deferential little bow. "Queen Miriam, as lovely as ever. And…" His eyes fell on the cradle. "Ah. This must be your little bundle of joy, the young Prince Rory himself…"

Miriam darted forward, snatching up her son in her arms. Theodore nodded to a nearby servant, sending a silent message to bring him his sword, while Malefor's gaze travelled over the crowd.

"What a marvelous party. If only my father's wake had had such good attendance…why, you even let the vermin in," he said, gestured toward the Sparrow Men. Pine started towards the sorcerer, but Aspen held out his arm to stop him.

Malefor continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Considering that, you can imagine I really felt _quite _insulted not to receive an invitation. I said to myself, surely even the man who killed my father couldn't be so cruel as to exclude me…"

"You're not welcome here," said Miriam suddenly, holding Rory tightly to her chest. Theodore stood up.

"Malefor, I will only say this once: leave us!" said the king. "Leave my castle and never return!"

The sorcerer's eyebrows lifted in pretend shock. "Oh, dear…how dreadfully awkward. I suppose I had hoped it was all just a misunderstanding."

"I won't tell you again!" the king shouted. He drew his sword. "Leave this place, and I may just spare your life!—"

Quick as a flash, the king suddenly found the sword yanked from his hands by some unseen force. It flew into the sorcerer's long-nailed hand, where it crumbled into ash.

"Spare my life, indeed!" Malefor sneered. "The way you spared my father's! Don't worry, Theodore, I shall be taking my leave, but not before I deliver _my _gift to the little prince."

"No!" Miriam rose.

"Seize him!" Theodore yelled to the guards, but the sorcerer blasted them backwards with a simple flick of his hand. His eyes glittered.

"It is _I _who am doing the telling now, your majesties. Now heed my words!"

He began to wave a hand slowly over the orb atop his staff, where a green aura grew stronger and stronger.

"The young prince shall indeed grow to be everything the vermin have wished for him, and more. With his heart of gold and his lion's courage, he shall be everything a king ought to be, loved by all who meet him…" He looked up at the king and queen. "But, sadly, he shall never get the chance to rule."

"No," croaked the king. "No, please!—"

"What was that?" said Malefor. "Did I just hear the great king begging me for mercy?"

Out of options, Theodore nodded.

"How very _touching_," the sorcerer sneered. "Had _you _showed some, I might just be inclined to return the favor."

He gestured over his staff, thunder rumbling overhead.

"My gift to the prince is this: at sunset on his eighteenth birthday, he shall pierce his finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel, and fall into a deathlike sleep, from which he shall _never _awaken!"

He threw his head back, laughing, as the green aura blasted outward from his staff, sweeping over everyone in the hall.

_"NO!" _

Miriam crumpled to the floor, sobbing, her body folded over her son's tiny form. The king and the Sparrow Men rushed to attend her. Chaos erupted; people were screaming; but one voice rose above the rest.

"Not so fast, Malefor!" Pine stepped forward, his evergreen eyes focused like lasers on the sorcerer. "It's far too early for you to celebrate your triumph. I haven't given _my_ gift to the boy just yet!"

Malefor just smirked, stroking his raven's head. "You think I feel threatened by you, little vermin? Tell me, how can a creature of your meager power _possibly_ hope to overthrow a curse of my magnitude?"

Pine's jaw tightened. "I may not be able to reverse it—but that doesn't mean it can't be weakened."

The sorcerer faltered. "What do you mean?"

"My gift to the prince is an avenue of awakening." Pine waved his hand over the baby, sending a soft shower of dust falling over him. "True Love's Kiss will break the curse."

Malefor clenched his staff. "Hah! Is that the best you can do, vermin? _True Love? _It doesn't exist. It's nothing more than a childlike fantasy!"

"Or maybe you're just unable to recognize it," said Aspen.

"Your antidote is as useless as you are," Malefor spat, before he turned to the king and queen. "Relish these few short years I have so generously given you with your son. And remember, I'll _always _be watching!"

In a burst of green flame, the sorcerer vanished.


	2. Chapter 2: The Song and the Bow

No one in the kingdom felt like celebrating after that. In a panic, Theodore published an edict decreeing that all spinning wheels in the kingdom should be rounded up and burned. The flames from the bonfire reached as high as the top of the castle wall, but still, the king and queen were not satisfied. Haunted by Malefor's warning that he would be watching, they decided it wasn't safe for their son in the palace, or anywhere in the kingdom. In the end, they entrusted him to the three good Sparrow Men who had saved his life.

The three fairies stole the infant prince away to an abandoned cottage in the distant Forest of Talemath, where, to their knowledge, Malefor had never set foot. Their plan was to keep the boy hidden there until he was eighteen and a day, at which point they would return him to his parents at the castle to become the king he was destined to be.

The Sparrow Men already looked much like humans, but they rid themselves of their wings, dressed as peasants, and made a pact to use no magic until the prince was grown. They raised him as if he were their own son, and called him Bryan.

One day, nearly eighteen years later, Cedar pulled the pantry open to find that the last half a loaf of bread had disappeared. Again.

"Bryan?" he called.

By the door, Bryan froze in the act of putting on his cloak. "Yes, Uncle Cedar?"

"Would you happen to know where the last of the bread went?"

He blushed. "Well…"

"I take it that means, 'yes'?"

"I'm sorry, Uncle. Cassie's been sick, and she has a nest to look after. She's got to get her strength back—Quentin can't look after the chicks all on his own. They need the bread more than we do," he said.

Cedar smiled. "Very well, then. I can bake more. But if Uncle Aspen asks, I didn't know anything about it, all right?"

Bryan smiled. "Thank you, Uncle! Don't worry; I won't tell." And with that, he was out the door, running off into the forest.

When he reached a clearing, he whistled a special tune, and suddenly the woods began to teem with animals—squirrels and chipmunks and rabbits on the ground, birds of all kinds in the tree branches. One, a wise-looking owl, fluttered down onto Bryan's waiting arm.

"Hello, Eldwin," he said, nuzzling him. "How are Cassie and Quentin today?"

Eldwin hooted and soared to a nearby tree. Without delay, Bryan raced to the trunk and began to pull himself up through the branches until he reached a nest on a high branch. Inside sat a sick-looking mourning dove, her wings spread over four cheeping babies.

"Cassie," he said softly. At the sound of his voice, the dove blearily opened her eyes. Bryan brought out the loaf of bread. "Look what I've brought you."

Carefully, he crumbled the bread into his hand and fed her. She cooed her thanks.

"Of course. I could never let you go hungry," said Bryan, smiling. He broke off a chunk and left it in a nearby fork. "If you feel hungry later, there's more right here."

He leaned back against the trunk, looking out through the leaves at the beautiful horizon. He could see Glairwen castle in the distance, so large it was visible even from Talemath Forest.

As Malefor had said, the young prince had grown to be everything the Sparrow Men had wished for him, and more. Tall and lean, with gentle features and shining golden hair, he was loved by everyone around him, though unfortunately that had only ever included his forest friends. Now, as he gazed at the castle in the distance, he felt that familiar pang of longing. The forest was his home, and it was wonderful, but he just couldn't help the itch he felt for adventure. Growing up, whenever he had asked why they lived in the woods when other people didn't, his uncles had told him that there were bad people in the world who wished him harm. In the forest, he was safe. But surely, thought Bryan, such a beautiful world couldn't be all bad, could it?

"What do you think, Eldwin?" he said, as the owl perched on his knee. "There's got to be plenty of good in the world, hasn't there?"

Eventually, after bidding farewell to Cassie, Bryan climbed down. He was just thinking he'd go and visit his favorite blackberry patch, when suddenly he heard hoofbeats. He ducked quickly behind the tree, peering around the trunk as a young woman rode by on a gray horse.

Bryan's breath caught in his throat. He hadn't seen many young women before, growing up in the forest all his life, but he couldn't imagine how any woman could be more beautiful. She was slender, sitting straight and tall in the saddle, with a long, reddish-brown braid tumbling from beneath a smart red cap. She wore a red travelling cloak and a trim light-brown tunic over black riding boots. Spellbound, he edged around the trunk, trying to get a better glimpse of her, but a branch snapped under his foot. He darted back.

"Did you hear that, buddy?" he heard her saying to her horse. Bryan could feel his cheeks flaming red. Part of him hoped the girl hadn't seen him, but the other part was aching to know who she was. When he heard her turn to go, he risked another look, and his eyes widened as he caught sight of the bow and quiver of arrows hanging from the saddle.

"She must be a huntress!" Bryan whispered, keeping his voice down. "We've got to stop her before she hurts any of the animals." He looked to Eldwin. "You know what to do."

Eldwin hooted softly, before he raised his wings and flew off after the girl.

* * *

The forest was so peaceful. Petra savored the quiet as she rode, tilting her face up to catch the warm sunshine. She wished she could just live here in the woods, where the only sound was the rustling of the leaves in the trees instead of the endless babbling of an endless stream of suitors all seeking her hand in marriage. But they only wanted her because she was royalty, she knew. After all, if there wasn't a huge dowry at stake, what suitor would want a woman who would rather be practicing swordplay than doing embroidery?

As she rode onward, she heard a twig snap behind them. She turned abruptly and could have sworn she saw a flash of something gold behind a tree.

"Whoa." She tugged on the reigns of her horse, Samuel, and he slowed to a stop. "Did you hear that, buddy?"

Samuel nickered. Petra scanned the forest, but they were alone. She shook her head.

"It must have just been an animal," she muttered. Just as they turned around, however, a flock of birds suddenly swooped down on them. Led by a large owl, they grasped her bow and quiver in their tiny claws, flying off with them into the trees.

"Hey!" Petra yelled. She nudged Samuel with her heels. "After them, Sam!"

The horse took off. Together, they streaked through the forest, leaping over fallen logs and weaving through the trees, but they were no match for the birds, who were quickly lost from view.

At last, Petra reigned in Samuel, brushing sweaty strands of hair out of her eyes. "Oh, no! What'll I tell Father? When he finds his bow missing, he'll _know _I snuck out again. He'll lock me in my room and throw away the key!"

Feeling thirsty, she went to a stream to drink, and then sat on the bank in the shade, trying to think of a plan. But just as she was about to give up hope, she heard something over the babbling of the brook. It sounded like…singing?

Filled with curiosity, she stood and began to make her way towards the sound. At last she pushed aside a branch to see a young man was sitting in the center of a small clearing, surrounded by forest animals. He was the source of the singing, his voice high and clear and beautiful.

_"__Why should thy cheek be pale,__  
__Shaded with sorrow's veil?__  
__Why should'st thou grieve me?__  
__I will never, never leave thee.__  
__'Mid my deepest sadness,__  
__'Mid my gayest gladness,__  
__I am thine, believe me;__  
__I will never, never leave thee." _

She was so captivated by his voice, it was several moments before she realized that the owl on the young man's shoulder looked familiar. She quickly spotted her bow and quiver lying by his feet, but she kept still, not wanting to interrupt his song.

_"__Life's storms may rudely blow,__  
__Laying hope and pleasure low:__  
__I'd ne'er deceive thee;__  
__I could never, never leave thee.__  
__Ne'er till my cheek grow pale,__  
__And my heart's pulses fail,__  
__And my last breath grieve thee__  
__Can I ever, ever leave thee..."_

Petra emerged from the thicket. At the rustling of the branches, the young man turned, leaping to his feet as he saw her.

"I beg your pardon," she said coolly, her hands on her hips. "But I believe that's my bow you have there."

The young man stared at her with the bluest eyes she'd ever seen, before he shook his head.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I can't let you have it."

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow. Bryan stood firm.

"I can't give it to you."

"Please, it's my father's bow. If I don't bring it back, he'll be furious."

"I can't allow you to use it to hunt my friends," he explained, gesturing to the animals around him. "They trust me to protect them, and I could never just stand aside and watch them get hurt."

"Oh, no," she said quickly. "I don't use them for hunting."

"What?" he said, surprised.

"No, they're just for show. That's the only way I can get out of the castle, is if—"

"The castle?"

"Um—yes. I'm a lady's maid." She thought better than to let him know she was the princess. "The only way I'm allowed out of the castle is if I pretend to be a squire, going out hunting. But I'd never shoot anyone. I don't even eat meat."

The young man smiled, and Petra's heart fluttered. She couldn't help but think how handsome he was, with his blond hair and soft face. He picked up her bow and handed it to her.

"I'm sorry," he said, a blush coloring his cheeks. The owl hooted assent. "This is Eldwin. He's sorry, too."

"But what about you?" she said. "What's your name?"

"I'm Bryan," he said.

"Pleasure to meet you." She smiled at him. "I'm Petra."

"Petra," said Bryan. What a beautiful name. Close up, she was even more beautiful than when she was riding. She had a light smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose beneath her soft brown eyes, her cheeks the color of peonies in the spring.

"Do you live here in the woods?" she asked. Bryan nodded.

"Yes. I live with my uncles; they raised me." He dropped his gaze. "Technically, they told me not to talk to strangers."

"Well, technically, _I_ talked to _you_ first, so I don't think it counts," she said, and Bryan smiled.

"Well, not many strangers come through these woods, to be honest."

"That's exactly why they're so perfect," said Petra. "You can never get any solitude in a castle."

"What's it like?" he said.

"What?"

"Living in a castle. I'd love to see it. I've never left the forest, but I—"

"Wait, you've _never _left these woods?" she said in disbelief.

"No. But I know there's so much more. So much more out there beyond just the forest." Bryan sat, plucking a blackberry from a nearby bush and rolling it between his fingers. "I'd give anything to see the rest of the world."

"Why can't you?" she asked, sinking down onto the soft grass beside him.

"I couldn't leave my uncles. Besides…they say that the world is filled with evil. They say I'm safer here," he said.

"But _safe _is no fun. You can't just stay here your whole life," she said.

"Is the world really like they say?" he asked. Petra shrugged.

"It depends. There_ is_ a lot of evil in the world, I guess, but there are so many more good things. How can you find the good if you aren't willing to face the bad?"

"Exactly!" Bryan was thrilled. "If only my uncles would let me, I'd leave tomorrow."

"If only _I_ could, _I'd _leave tomorrow," she sighed.

"What do you mean?" he asked. She made a face.

"The castle's not all it's cracked up to be. I'd _much_ rather live in the woods."

"Really?"

"It's so beautiful here. And so free! In the castle, they're always telling you what to do, what _not _to do, every moment of your life. I have to sneak out whenever I want a little peace; and if I'm caught…but you can just wander around as you please, through all the woods and fields…it must be wonderful."

"It is, most of the time," Bryan conceded, looking at her. It was crazy; they had known each other for all of fifteen minutes, and yet…he couldn't help feeling like he'd finally met someone who understood him. "It can be kind of lonely sometimes, though."

"Hey, at least you've got these guys," said Petra, scratching the head of Lewis the chipmunk as he scampered up onto her knee. "They probably never order you around, right?"

"That's true," he said. "But they can't say anything else, either."

"I guess you've got a point," she admitted.

Bryan looked around at the assembled animals.

"Don't get me wrong, you guys are the best. It's just—" He glanced shyly over at her. "I've always wished for someone I could really talk to."

"Me too," said Petra. The forest seemed to have become strangely airless all of a sudden. His eyes looked almost deep and blue enough to swim in.

"By the way…" she said, but her voice came out thick and clumsy. She cleared her throat. "I never said…you've got a beautiful voice."

Bryan blushed bright red, pulling at a stray thread on his shirt. "Thank you."

A sudden impatient snort brought them back down to earth.

"Oh! Sorry, buddy," Petra apologized. "Bryan, this is Samuel. He's my—my lady's horse. She allows me to ride him sometimes."

"Hello, Samuel," said Bryan, reaching out to stroke the horse's gray muzzle. He introduced Petra to all his own animal friends. Besides Eldwin the owl and Lewis the chipmunk, there was Chester the Woodpecker, Cecily the Fairy Wren, Chloe and Tiberius the gray squirrels, and the bunnies Wulfric and Lily.

"Who's that?" asked Petra, pointing to a large black raven perched on a branch in a nearby tree.

"Oh, that's Storm. He keeps to himself, but he's always up there watching us."

The raven cocked his head, gazing at them out of one dark beady eye, before he flew off.

Morning gradually melted into afternoon. Bryan wished he could have stayed in that clearing with her forever—he couldn't remember the last time his cheeks had ached from smiling so much—but eventually, Petra admitted that she should really be getting back to the palace. Bryan quickly offered to escort her to the edge of the forest.

As they walked together, his hand accidentally brushed against hers, and he hesitated. Should he take her hand? Could he be so bold? Should he just apologize? But just as all these thoughts flew through his mind, Petra reached out and took his hand in hers, giving him a knowing smile. He blushed.

* * *

The raven flew northward, towards the Forbidden Mountain and the ruins of Rhaokros' castle that lay at the top. When he reached the crumbling façade, he flew towards one particular window, shrieking.

"Ah, there you are, 'Storm,'" chuckled Malefor. "What a curious name the boy gave you. I could almost like it…well? Do you have news for me?"

The raven cawed urgently, flying onto Malefor's shoulder.

"What?" His smile dropped. "What did you say?"

_Caw! Caw! _Storm flapped his wings.

"No." The sorcerer blanched. "No, it can't be!—"

He waved a hand over the orb on his staff.

"Show me the boy!"

As the swirling green smoke cleared, the sorcerer could see him there in the forest, sitting and talking with a girl. A very beautiful girl.

The vermin were so stupid, it was painful. Hadn't he told them he'd always be watching? And yet they still thought that the boy was beyond his clutches. They had actually done him a favor, isolating their charge in the woods. With no one to meet but the woodland creatures, there was no one who could possibly provide him with that accursed True Love's Kiss to break the spell—or so he had thought.

Now, as he watched the two talking, he could see the way the boy looked at her; that disgusting, sloppy expression. Malefor worried that the boy had lost his heart, and indeed, when they finally stood and began to make their way out of the clearing, he saw the girl's hand slip into the prince's.

"No!" he raged. "I have waited nearly eighteen years for my revenge! I will not let some miserable little wretch ruin everything!"

He waved his hand, and Storm the raven suddenly began to transform, his feathers turning into bristling fur, his talons elongating into razor-sharp claws. Malefor smiled.

"You know what to do."

**Author's Note:**

Hi, guys!

I won't always include author's notes at the ends of chapters, but I just wanted to say that I hope you enjoyed this chapter. You all are so sweet...I've gotten positive reviews already, oh gosh. *squeaks* I just hope you keep on liking the story! Fun fact, the song that Bryan sings in this chapter is a very old Scottish folk song called "I'll Never Leave Thee." You should try looking it up-it's really beautiful.

New chapter coming tomorrow! :) and DFTBA (Don't Forget To Be Awesome).

-EpicPenguin


	3. Chapter 3: Big Bad Wolf (updated)

"If you follow this path, it should lead you out of the forest," said Bryan, pointing ahead.

"Thanks." Petra smiled. It had taken them quite a while to get out of the forest. First they'd stopped to pick berries on the way; then they'd paused so he could teach her to climb trees and imitate bird calls. She'd taught him some of the basics of swordfighting (trying to prevent him from poking his own eye out in the process), and when they'd stopped for a drink, they'd ended up just sitting beside the brook together, listening to the water run.

"Will you, um—will you be back this way?" asked Bryan.

"I can be," said Petra, raising an eyebrow. "Would you like me to?"

"I, um…yes," he said, blushing. She thought it was adorable how he blushed so easily.

"Good, because even if you wouldn't, _I_ would," she laughed.

"When will you be back?" he asked.

She shrugged. "As soon as I can."

"Tonight?"

"Oh, no; I could never get away with that," she said. When she saw his disappointment, she quickly added, "But tomorrow, maybe. It's a little risky, twice in two days, but I'll do whatever I have to."

"Tomorrow's perfect," he said. "It'll be my birthday tomorrow. I want you to meet my uncles. We'd love to have you."

"It's your _birthday_ tomorrow? And you're just mentioning this _now?_" she said, pausing with her foot in the stirrup.

"Oh, I—it just never came up, I guess," he said sheepishly. She couldn't blame him for that. There were several things she'd neglected to mention, too, not the least of which was her royal status.

"Well, Happy Birthday early, then," she said, climbing into the saddle.

"Thank you. I'll see you tomorrow, Petra."

She smiled down at him. "See you tomorrow, Bryan."

He watched her ride off down the trail. Just before she disappeared over the hill, she turned back and winked at him, giving him a wave. Bryan turned to head for home, his chest full of a warmth he had never known. He couldn't wait to tell his uncles they'd have to set an extra place at the dinner table tomorrow.

Then, all of a sudden, he heard a scream in the distance.

* * *

After she waved to Bryan, Petra reluctantly turned her sights towards the path home. She bit her lip. How in the world was she going to get back here tomorrow? Her absence had _long _since been noticed, she was sure. After today, she could forget being locked in her room; her father would probably lock her in the _dungeons._ She didn't care, though. She'd just had the best day of her life, and even if it meant fighting the guards or swimming across the moat, she'd see him again. She never broke a promise.

She was so lost in her thoughts about Bryan that she didn't notice the pathway growing unnaturally darker, even though it wasn't yet sunset. Suddenly, she heard a rustling in the bushes up ahead.

"Who's there?" she said, one hand on the hilt of her sword. Her only answer was a low, sinister growl. She barely caught a glimpse of a pair of green eyes staring out at her before a dark shape detached itself from shadows, flying towards them.

Petra screamed; Sam reared and she grabbed the reins, yanking him to the side. The great black wolf landed on all fours beside them; it snarled and leapt, preparing to sink its razor-sharp teeth into the horse's neck.

"No!"

Her sword barely out of its sheath, Petra took a wild swipe at the beast. The tip of her blade caught it in the shoulder, knocking it away, but the uncoordinated swing had caused her to overbalance. She tumbled out of the saddle; all the air was knocked out of her lungs as she hit the ground. She groped frantically for her sword as she tried to sit up; she felt her fingers closed around the hilt just as the wolf bore down on her. She lashed at him, but the beast dodged. It gripped her blade in its powerful jaws, wrenching it out of her hand and throwing it away before it leapt at her, pinning her to the ground. Weaponless, she looked up into its bloody mouth.

Then, suddenly, there was a flash of silver and the wolf yelped, leaping back. Petra scrambled up to see Bryan, her sword in his hands, advancing on the beast.

"Bryan!" she yelled as he planted himself between her and the wolf.

"Petra, GO!" he yelled, jerking his head in the horse's direction. "Go! Get out of here!"

"No, I won't leave you!" she said.

The wolf let out a terrible growl and bounded forward. Bryan struck again and again, but the beast dodged the blows, until finally it knocked him aside. He slammed into the ground; the sword flew out of his hand. He heard Petra yelling his name; he scrambled up in time to see her dive for her sword, but it was too far away. The wolf snarled and lunged.

"NO!"

Without thinking, Bryan ran forward and threw himself over her, shielding her with his body. He braced himself, fully expecting to feel the wolf's fangs sink into his neck—but instead, to his surprise, the monster stopped, skidding to a halt in front of him. For a second, they stared at each other. He could almost see his reflection in the wolf's glowing eyes.

"You'll have to kill _me _first," he said. The wolf growled, before it abruptly turned tail and ran off into the trees.

For a few moments, they didn't move, watching after the beast. Then Petra slumped back against the ground, pressing her face into the dirt.

"Oh, g*d. Oh, _g*d!..._"

"Hey," said Bryan, helping her to stand. "It's okay. We're okay."

Petra nodded, but he noticed she was shaking terribly.

"Oh, g*d!" She leaned forward, pressing her forehead against his chest, and Bryan wrapped his arms around her.

"Are you gonna be okay?" he asked. She nodded, commanding herself to get it together.

"Am _I _gonna be okay!? What about _you?_" she said.

"Hey, I'm fine," he said, giving her a shaky smile as he swept back his sweaty bangs from his forehead.

"What happened back there?" she asked.

Bryan shook his head. "I don't know," he said. "It was weird. I thought for sure it was going to rip my throat out, but then…then it just ran away."

"You're an idiot," she said suddenly. He was taken aback.

"What?"

"You _idiot!_ Why? Why would you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Just go and throw yourself in front of it like that!? It could have killed you!"

"But it didn't," he said.

"It _could _have! G*d!" She clutched her head in her hands.

"I'm sorry," said Bryan. "I—I had to save you!"

"But _why? _What makes your life any less valuable than mine?G*d, if it had ripped your throat out, when it should've been me—"

"I—" Bryan didn't know what to say. "Petra, I'm sorry; I didn't—I just didn't want you to get hurt. I'm sorry that I didn't think about how you might feel. I just couldn't bear it if something happened to you."

"I just don't want you to throw your life away on my account, okay?" she said.

"It's not throwing it away!" he said, almost angrily. "You're the most amazing person I've ever met. If you think for one second that you're not worth saving, you're wrong."

Petra stared at him, any retort she could have made dying in her throat. He was serious. She wasn't normally a crier, but in that moment, she felt like she had to try hard not to burst into tears. Instead, she reached out and hugged him again. Bryan felt his adrenaline melting in her warmth. Her hair smelled like sunshine and soap. They stayed that way for a long time, letting the joy of their survival sink in.

"Come with me," said Petra as she finally let go. Bryan was startled.

"What?"

"To the castle," she said. "I don't care what your uncles will say. It won't matter! When Father hears you saved my life, he'll make you a knight. I'll ask him to give you your own horse, your own castle, whatever you want—"

"Your father?" said Bryan, now truly confused. Petra hesitated, but then gave in. It wasn't like she could keep this a secret forever.

"Bryan, listen. There's something I have to tell you." She faced him, looking him in the eye. Her father always said, if you have to confess something, do it with honor. "I'm actually not a lady's maid. My father is King Peter of Chiraeon."

His jaw dropped.

"You—you mean you're—?"

"Yes," she said reluctantly. "I'm a princess."

"Oh!" He hurriedly started to bow, but she put a hand on his arm.

"Don't. Please. That's why I didn't tell you. As soon as they know I'm royalty, people treat me differently. I really don't _want_ to be a princess, but I guess we can't choose how we're born."

"No, I guess not," said Bryan, surprised his mouth could still work. "Then…will you rule Chiraeon one day?"

"If I had it my way, yes. But Father wants me to marry. And that brings the vultures in." She gritted her teeth. "They couldn't care less about who I am. Whenever _anyone _looks at me, all they see is my royalty. They don't really see _me. _That's why I didn't tell you."

Her eyes pleaded with him to understand. For the first time since they'd met, she started to fumble her words.

"I've never really had a real friend before, and you…you're so…I mean, you're wonderful. I, I just didn't want you to—"

"It's okay," he said, and smiled. "I understand. I'd probably do the same thing in your place."

"Don't tell anyone, please," she begged.

"I won't, I promise," he said earnestly. "I swear on my best blackberries."

She gave a little laugh, relief spreading across her face.

"That was some pretty great swordwork back there, considering that was only, what? the second time in your life you've held a real sword?"

Bryan laughed. "Well, I had a great teacher."

"_Will_ you come with me to the castle?" she pressed. "I can't let you get away with saving my life and not say a real thank-you."

"Yes," he said. This was the chance he'd been waiting for. He could feel it. He'd be eighteen tomorrow, finally a man. It was time for him to see the world for himself. "I'll come. I have to say good-bye to my uncles first, though. They'll worry if I don't come home. But tomorrow, when you come, I'll go with you."

He walked her to the very edge of the woods, keeping an eye out for wolves, and then watched as she rode off down the hill towards her kingdom. He waited until she disappeared into the distance, before he turned and raced back towards the cottage. In spite of the terror from earlier, he now felt lighter than air. They'd survived, and tomorrow, the adventure of a lifetime would begin.

* * *

The cottage was bathed in the orange glow of sunset by the time Bryan finally reached home. Running up the front path, he banged open the door and called for his uncles. The three Sparrow Men, who had been sitting at the kitchen table, sprang up at the sound of his voice.

"Young man, where were you!?" demanded Aspen, his eyes full of concern. "You know the rule is that you have to be home for supper, unless you tell us first!"

"Well, technically, we haven't eaten yet," Pine pointed out.

"Because we were too worried about you!" Aspen glared at Pine. "Still, rules are rules."

"Oh, lighten up, Aspen, won't you?" said Pine, sounding slightly impatient. "He's not a boy anymore."

"That's exactly my point," said Aspen, giving Pine a pointed look. "He'll be eighteen tomorrow! We can't take any risks now, not when it's almost—!"

"Shut up!" hissed Pine, before Aspen could mention the curse.

"Are you alright?" Cedar asked Bryan, taking in his scraped arms and dirty clothes. "What happened?"

"I'm fine, Uncle Cedar," said Bryan. "I'm sorry, Uncle Aspen. There was—there was something I had to do.""What could be so important to make you stay out three hours past supper?" asked Cedar. "I know you were worried for your bird friend, but—"

"No, no, it's wasn't Cassie," said Bryan. "This…this was a new friend."

"A new friend?" asked Pine. "Who?"

"Her name's Petra," he said.

"What sort of animal is she?"

"She's, um, not an animal," said Bryan, a blush rising in his cheeks. His uncles all stopped.

"You don't mean…you met someone?" asked Pine. "In these woods?"

Bryan told them the whole story: about how he and Petra had met, how they'd spent the day together, how he'd invited her to celebrate his eighteenth birthday with them tomorrow. He refrained from telling them Petra's true identity—he'd promised not to, and after all, tomorrow Petra could tell them herself if she wanted to. But before he could tell them about going with Petra to Chiraeon Castle, his uncles interrupted.

"Bryan, you know better than to go around talking to strangers," said Aspen. "We raised you here in the woods to keep you safe. For all you know, she could mean you harm!"

"Petra would never want to hurt me!" said Bryan. "She's the kindest and smartest person I've ever met. You'll see for yourself. Besides, these woods might not be as safe as you think."

He told them about the wolf. Suddenly, the atmosphere in the room grew tense as a drawn bowstring. His uncles exchanged glances.

"A wolf!? Here in Talemath!?" said Cedar.

"And you said that it fled when instead it could have killed you?" said Aspen.

Bryan nodded, slightly troubled by his uncle's tone of voice. "It kept trying to get at Petra. Honestly, it was like it only wanted to kill her. I was shielding her, and it could have ripped my throat out, but it just ran away."

"What color were its eyes?" asked Pine.

"Um—green," said Bryan, a little surprised by the question. "They were glowing green."

The men looked at one another, their worst fears confirmed.

"Malefor," said Aspen. "He's found us."

"No. No, no, no!" Pine stood up so fast he nearly knocked his chair over. Cedar buried his face in his hands. It had to be the sorcerer. He wouldn't harm the boy on the eve of the curse.

"Uncle Pine? Uncle Cedar?" Bryan was shocked. He'd never seen them lose control like this before. None of his uncles seemed to hear him, though.

"How could this happen?" said Cedar. "We took every precaution!"

"Does it matter now? What matters is that he knows where Bryan is!" said Aspen.

"What do we do!?" said Cedar.

Pine's jaw tightened as he paced. "We take him back."

"But it's a day too soon!" Aspen protested.

"We don't have a choice. We're no longer safe here. First thing tomorrow morning, we leave for the castle."

"The castle?" said Bryan. "What're you talking about?" He looked at each of them in turn, searching for an answer. "What's going on?"

For a moment, his uncles stared at him. Then, Cedar put a hand on his shoulder.

"You might want to sit down," he said gently.

* * *

Malefor watched, enjoying the boy's expression as the vermin told him about his true identity.

"Perfect," he whispered. At first, he had been furious when Storm had failed—damn the boy; he'd just had to go all _noble_—but now everything was going according to plan. The vermin were playing right into his hands. His blood ran quicker as he anticipated his triumph.

"Soon, little Prince," he murmured. "Soon, I'll have you in my grasp!"


	4. Chapter 4: The Strength of a Promise

"Open the gates!" called the sentries, seeing Petra streaking up on Samuel. She clattered across the drawbridge and into the courtyard, pulling up short when she was met by a wall of guards blocking her access to the stables. Oh, great.

"Princess." Walter, the captain of the guard, stepped forward. "The king has requested your immediate presence."

Petra made a face.

"Am I in trouble?"

"I reckon so, m'lady," said Walter apologetically.

Petra sighed. She mostly liked Walter—he was like an uncle to her, leading his men well while still not being afraid to crack a joke now and again. He also never hesitated to tell her the truth, which she valued immensely. But in this case, the truth wasn't so pleasant.

"Are you alright, Princess?" he said, eyeing her injuries with great concern as she dismounted. "Merlin's beard, what happened to you!?"

"I'm fine, Walter," she said, as a page led Samuel off towards the stables. "Just a little bruised. We were attacked in the forest."

"Attacked!" Walter's hand flew to his sword. "By whom?"

"Not whom. What. It was a wolf."

"In Talemath Forest?" Walter's shock only registered briefly before he grew serious. "Don't worry, m'lady. I'll request permission to organize a vanguard to track the beast down. We'll make sure it's safe for you the next time you ride."

"I'm not even sure there'll be a next time," muttered Petra. Walter smiled gently.

"If I may be so bold, princess, might I suggest you call for the physician?" he said. "Get some poultice for those cuts. But first, you'd better see his majesty. We both know he doesn't like to be kept waiting."

"Alright." Petra turned to go, but stopped as she felt Walter's gloved hand on her shoulder.

"Perhaps I can delay the vanguard a bit, m'lady," he whispered, winking at her. "Who knows? We might just find ourselves one man short."

Petra flashed him a small smile, before she headed up into the palace towards her father's study. As she entered, her father, King Peter, was seated behind the great wooden table, his face unreadable. Petra held her head high, determined not to show her nervousness. There was a long silence, but she knew she had to wait until she was spoken to.

"Petra," he said finally, his voice firm, yet quieter than she had expected. "Do you know why I require you to marry?"

"Father, I'm sorry," said Petra in a rush. "I admit, I snuck out again, and I know it was wrong, but—"

"I asked you a question," said the king. Petra bit her tongue.

"Because it's customary for princesses to marry?" she said, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

"That it is, but no. You must marry for the sake of the kingdom."

"To preserve our family's bloodline."

"Not merely that. Each of us is but one half of a coin. It is pivotal for a ruler to find his other half."

"Father, please; I don't mean any disrespect, but aren't I strong enough to be a good ruler?" she said.

The king paused, before he finally said,

"Yes, I believe you are."

Petra was taken aback. Her father rarely praised her for anything.

"Were I to allow it, Chiraeon would have a fine king in you, my daughter. But it is extremely unwise for a ruler to be alone. For a king, his queen is his closest confidante, and vice-versa. The wisdom required of a ruler is the wisdom found in realizing one cannot rule alone. For the good of the kingdom, you must marry before you ascend the throne."

Petra stared at her father. He had never told her this before. Could she dare to hope that he was finally treating her like more than just a woman? Silently, she wondered when the axe would fall.

"You are strong, Petra. But your strength is misdirected. You are rebelling when you should be channeling that strength into searching for a man worthy to rule by your side."

"But Father, riding and swordfighting—they're what I love to do!" said Petra desperately. "I know they're not fitting for a lady, but if someone is worthy to rule with me, then shouldn't he love me for me?"

The king's voice hardened. "Your passions feed your rebellious spirit," he said. "And a ruler with a hot head is unfit for the throne. This is why you must tame that wildfire spirit of yours! This is why I will not stand for this disobedience! Is that understood!?"

"Yes, Father," said Petra. The axe had fallen. "But please—"

The king held up his hand. "You shall not go into the woods again. I shall instruct the stable hands that Samuel is not to be released, and you shall attend to your lessons and your embroidery as you are supposed to. Is that clear?"

"Wait, Father!" said Petra, approaching the table. "May I please have permission to go just once more? I promise, I'll complete my lessons and everything, just like you want, but I have to go into the woods tomorrow."

"Out of the question. I have given you my final word."

"But I _have_ to go—Father, I think I may have found—" Petra hesitated slightly, but then resolutely plowed on. "I think I may have found someone I could marry."

The king raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And who may that be?"

"His name is Bryan. I met him in the woods today. He's the reason I have to go back tomorrow. I promised I'd meet him."

"And who is this Bryan? The son of a Count or a Baron, out for a hunt?"

"No, Father. From the looks of it, he lives in Talemath."

"A peasant boy?" said the king incredulously.

"It doesn't matter that he's a peasant!" she said quickly. "He's the kindest person I've ever met in my entire life. You should see the way he tends to the animals in the forest!"

"Petra, surely you are more intelligent than to let your emotions cloud your judgment," said the king, running a hand over his thick brown beard. "Kindness or no, a peasant could never make a suitable king! He has had no experience whatsoever in the ways of the court. He wouldn't have the first inkling about how to rule a kingdom!"

"I don't care!" said Petra, her eyes bright with determination. "He's got ten times the compassion of anyone I've ever seen at court, and what good king doesn't have compassion on his people? And he's_ brave_—Father, he saved my life today!"

She pulled aside her cloak to reveal the dried blood from the claw marks of the wolf on her chest. The king's brow furrowed at the sight.

"We were attacked by a wolf. It was about to kill me, but Bryan fought it off with my sword, then threw himself in front of me to shield me! He was ready to sacrifice his life for me, and he didn't even know I was a princess. If those aren't the qualities of a good king, I don't know what are!"

Her father frowned. "While the lad would seem to possess a noble spirit, unfortunately, politics is far more than just compassion."

"He saved me, Father," she said. "I promised I'd go back tomorrow and bring him here to the castle. He deserves to be rewarded!"

"And so he shall be. But a kingship shall not be his reward. And you shall _not_ return to the woods tomorrow, particularly not if there are wolves now roaming in Talemath. I will see to it that a vanguard is sent out to slay the beast."

Petra opened her mouth to protest, but the king cut her off, his tone final.

"I will make sure the lad is rewarded handsomely. But, in the meantime, you shall do as I command. Do you understand, Petra?"

She knew it was useless to argue. She drew a deep breath and squared her shoulders, looking her father in the eye.

"All I know is, I promised him. And you always say a ruler should keep their word. So whatever I may do, know that it's for that promise, and not for the sake of rebellion. Good night, Father."

Without being dismissed, she bowed and left the room.

* * *

The next morning, at the edge of the forest, the Captain rallied his troops.

"Alright, men!" shouted Walter. "You know our mission: find and slay the wolf that threatened our princess! Fan out; we'll leave no corner of the forest unexplored. I'll see none of you back before nightfall, unless you're bringing me the beast's head on a platter; is that clear?"

The men gave a rousing cheer, before they all galloped off in different directions. Finally, only one small knight on a black horse was left standing before him.

"Are you waiting for a written invitation, soldier?" said the Captain, winking. "You have your orders. Be off!"

Petra briefly raised the visor on her helmet so that he could see her smile of gratitude. Then she quickly turned and galloped off into the trees.

She rode a little ways to a lake, where, as promised, she found her horse waiting for her. She tied the reigns of the black horse to the tree, concealed her armor under a nearby bush, then vaulted onto Samuel's back and took off. She'd never be able to thank Walter enough for this. It was thanks to him that the vanguard had "mysteriously" found itself one man short that morning. She also suspected that he had bribed the stable hand into releasing Samuel, the same hand who would later be coming to put on the armor and ride back in her place.

After a long while, Petra spotted the little cottage through the trees. Reigning in her horse, she dismounted and knocked on the door, smoothing out her brown tunic.

"Come in," came a voice from inside. It definitely wasn't Bryan's—it must be one of his uncles, she thought. She stepped inside, and her brow furrowed. The house was unusually dark; it felt cold and unlived-in. Where was everybody?

"Hello?" she called tentatively. "Bryan?"

"Princess Petra. What a _pleasant _surprise."

Her heart leapt into her throat as she suddenly caught sight of a shadowy figure across the room.

"Who's there?" she said, her hand jumping to her sword. "Show yourself!"

The figure chuckled darkly. "As you wish."

A green light suddenly began to glow in his hand. As it illuminated his face, Petra gasped in horror.

"Who are you?" she said. "Where's Bryan?"

"So sorry to disappoint you, my lady, but I'm afraid we are quite alone."

"What did you do to him!?" she gasped.

"Oh, nothing yet, princess. Though, trust me; I have great plans for the boy…plans for which I will require your help."

"What? What do you mean?" she said.

The sorcerer said nothing, but slowly advanced towards her, his eyes glinting.


	5. Chapter 5: The Prince and the Spindle

Huddled beneath his blue cloak, Bryan followed close on his uncles' heels as they crept down the dim castle hallway. Briefly, he glanced up, but then felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Keep your head down!" Aspen whispered. Obediently, Bryan lowered his eyes, but he still tried to sneak glimpses here and there as his uncles led him through the maze of corridors. He couldn't believe the luxury of the castle—silken tapestries, arching stone ceilings, torches flickering in elegant wrought-iron sconces.

Eventually, his uncles ushered him into what seemed to be an unused guest room. Cedar gestured towards the fireplace, and a fire instantly sprang up from the cold logs. Bryan flinched—it was still a shock to think that his uncles could use magic. After he'd learned the truth last night, he'd fled up to his room, where he had sat staring out the window for what seemed like hours as darkness fell. He still couldn't quite believe it—he was actually a _prince?_ The heir to the throne of Glairwen? It all seemed too crazy to be true. He certainly didn't_ feel_ like royalty.

He was so lost in his thoughts, it was a while before he realized his uncles had left the room. A tub of warm water sat nearby, so he pulled the screen around the tub and washed away the dirt and sweat from the day's journey. It was almost a full day's walk between Talemath and Glairwen Castle, but it would have caused a stir if his uncles had just teleported them there by magic.

Once he had bathed, Bryan put on the outfit that had been draped over the screen: a pale blue undershirt and breeches, and over that, a royal blue tunic with gold trim and white cap sleeves. He'd never worn something so fine in his life. The black boots were soft leather, but he was so used to being barefoot in the forest, it felt weird to have his feet confined to shoes.

Looking around, he spotted something else his uncles had left for him, sitting atop the vanity. Bryan carefully lifted the golden crown from its cushion. After some hesitation, he placed it on his head, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

He looked like a completely different person. No matter how hard Bryan tried to find himself in the mirror, all he saw was Prince Rory. Now he understood what Petra had meant when she said that her royal status was the only thing that people saw when they looked at her.

He collapsed onto the stool before the vanity. In his heart, he knew he wasn't really that person in the mirror. And now he was supposed to rule a _kingdom?_ How on earth could they possibly think he was suitable to be a king?

Bryan buried his face in his hands. There was only one glimmer of hope he could find in this whole situation. If Petra was a princess, and he was now a prince…only now could he dare to hope that maybe, just maybe, there might be some sort of a future for them together.

His stomach jolted as he thought about Petra. He'd had no way to tell her about his sudden twist of fate. He imagined her riding up to find the cottage abandoned, its windows dark and cold. What would she think? That he'd deceived her? Now she would be in trouble with her father—or worse. Bryan prayed that the wolf they had met hadn't returned. If anything happened to her, he'd never be able to forgive himself.

* * *

Little did Bryan know that at that very moment, a pair of sinister yellow eyes were watching him in a crystal orb. Malefor smiled. The time had come.

With a wave of his long-nailed hand, the fire in the fireplace blew out. The rushing sound caused the boy to look up. As Malefor whispered incantations, the rising smoke transformed into tendrils of green magic, which twisted themselves into an orb.

He saw the boy's face slacken, saw the glowing green cloud his eyes. _Good…_

_"Come, little prince,"_ the sorcerer whispered.

Under his hypnotic spell, the boy couldn't resist. He rose and followed the orb, out of the room and down the hallway.

_"Come to me."_

* * *

"You_ know_ we weren't to tell him about the curse. The king forbade it!" said Aspen.

"We don't have a choice now!" said Pine, slamming his hands on the table.

"Pine, please!" said Cedar. "Don't shout—"

"Just yesterday you seemed eager to keep the secret from him, too, Pine! Why the sudden change of heart?" snapped Aspen.

"That was when we still had hope!" said Pine. "So long as we were confident we had the upper hand, there was little need to frighten the boy, but we can't be sure we have the upper hand any longer!"

"Oh, really?" said Aspen. "I thought that was what your brilliant plan was all about. We've done what you suggested; we've brought the boy home—ahead of schedule, I might add—"

"Would you listen to yourself!?" shouted Pine.

"Pine, please," said Cedar anxiously. "Bryan will hear you!"

"This has always been your problem, Aspen! _Everything_ must be by the book with you! Can't you see that the game has changed? If you think that Malefor is still going to play by the old rules, then your skull is thicker than a troll's! That's why we have to tell Bryan about the curse. If we don't, we will lose."

"Is that all that matters to you? _Losing?_ Is this some sort of a game to you!?" said Aspen, pushing his chair back roughly.

"Aspen, no!" said Cedar, but Aspen shoved him back, coming face-to-face with Pine.

"Our job isn't to _win._ Our job is to protect Bryan! That's what it's been for the past eighteen years, and that's just what I've done! He shouldn't have to live in fear of what's going to happen."

"Yes, he should!" said Pine. "Because it's about to happen!"

"_You're _the one who's endangering him, Pine! You're always too impulsive; you think that acting rashly is the same thing as courage. Why do you think I suggested that you give the boy _wisdom_ all those years ago!?—"

"I could say the same of you and bravery, you coward!" said Pine.

"All you want is to beat Malefor," growled Aspen. "You don't care about Bryan at all. I bet it was the best day of your life, that day eighteen years ago, when you got to step up and play the winning card."

"YOU—!"

Pine lunged for Aspen, but Cedar hurriedly conjured a wall of magic between the two of them.

"Stop it! Both of you, stop it!" he yelled.

"How DARE you say I don't care about Bryan!" shouted Pine. "You think I wouldn't have changed places with him that day if I could have? But I couldn't! _None _of us could! Malefor was too powerful, and he still is! At this point, the boy's only hope is for us to tell him the truth, so that he can be on his guard! It has nothing to do with you or I!"

Aspen opened his mouth, but Pine kept going, his anger giving way to exhaustion and worry.

"You're right, Aspen—I have little wisdom. If I _had_ been wiser, I would have seen long ago that keeping the curse from the boy was idiocy. I trusted you, because you've always been the wisest. And you did what you thought was best for him. But things have changed."

He looked around at the others.

"Like it or not, we can't afford to keep up this charade. Tonight is the night of the curse. Bryan needs all the protection he can get, even the protection of his own common sense."

There was a very long pause, before Aspen finally nodded.

"You're right. He should be on his guard."

"We should_ all _be on our guard," said Cedar. Then, without warning, a sudden slamming noise made them all jump. As if of its own accord, the door had shut, its handle bathed in green magic.

"NO!" the Sparrow Men yelled, hearing the lock sliding into place. "No! _Bryan!_"

* * *

Bryan looked up abruptly as a powerful wind suddenly swept through the chamber. He hadn't felt a draft, yet somehow it had been strong enough to extinguish the fire in the fireplace, where the charred logs were still smoldering.

As he watched, the cloud of gray smoke suddenly began to change, turning an eerie shade of green as it snaked upwards. Bryan was about to run when it coiled itself into a single glowing orb, and his mind suddenly seemed to go numb. The world around him grew muffled as he looked into the swirling light.

_"Come, little prince,"_ the whisper broke into his dulled brain. The orb's light seemed to wrap around him, pulling him forward. _"Come to me…"_

Obediently, he rose from his chair and followed it through the corridors. Mere moments later, or so it seemed, they arrived at the top of a long, winding staircase. The orb floated through the door and into the room, where it suddenly transformed into a great black wheel, pulsing faintly with a green light.

_"Touch the spindle,"_ the voice sounded in his empty mind. He felt his legs move forward; his hand reached out towards the gleaming black needle, but suddenly he heard other voices, echoing faintly in his brain. He hesitated as he tried to discern what they were saying, but then the first voice broke in once again.

_"Touch the spindle, boy."_

His hand moved closer, but the other voices were growing louder.

_"…Bryan…...Bryan…...Bryan!..."_

His name. They were saying his name. Why?

_"Touch it, I say!—"_

His hand trembled. Suddenly he didn't want to touch it. He didn't want to, but he had to obey.

_"…Bryan!...Bryan!…"_

He gritted his teeth, shaking with the effort of resisting. No. He wouldn't. He couldn't.

_"Obey. Touch it! NOW!"_

Using every drop of strength he had, Bryan wrenched his hand away. The numbness fled from his mind; he stumbled backwards, feeling like a drowning swimmer emerging from the water. For the first time, he became aware of someone else in the room: a tall figure in long black robes. His smile sent chills down Bryan's spine.

"Interesting…" the figure said. "You are stronger than you seem, Prince Rory."

"Who are you?" said Bryan. "How do you know who I am?"

"I know many things about you, dear boy…after all," his eyes glittered, "I have been watching."

"You," said Bryan, realizing. "You're Malefor."

"Indeed, little prince…or should I say, _Bryan._" He chuckled. "You do not consider yourself a prince, do you, boy?"

Bryan's stomach dropped_. _Could this monster read his thoughts?

"Why did you bring me here?" he demanded, his hands curling into fists. "What do you want from me!?"

"Surely it's obvious by now?" Malefor gestured to the spinning wheel. "Simply come and touch the spindle."

Bryan's gaze flickered to it, then back to the sorcerer. His brow furrowed.

"No."

Malefor just smiled.

"I would advise you to comply, little prince."

"No!" Bryan stared him down. The door behind him was wide open, yet he held his ground. "I won't touch it! I refuse!"

Such a foolish gift those vermin had given him, the sorcerer thought. It was always impossible to draw the line between bravery and stupidity.

"I warn you, boy," he said. "Should you continue to defy me, the consequences could be quite severe…especially for the young lady."

Bryan froze. "What do you mean?"

The sorcerer raised his hand. Bryan leapt back, shielding his eyes, but Malefor just laughed.

"Oh, trust me, little prince. This is something you will want to see."

He conjured an image in midair, and Bryan's heart stopped. It was Petra, heavily chained in a dark, filthy dungeon. Her clothes were torn; cuts and bruises littered her face.

"Petra, NO!"

Bryan started towards Malefor, but he held up his hand.

"Careful, boy. A simple snap of my fingers, and she will breathe no more."

"No! Let her go!" he yelled. Malefor laughed.

"And so I shall, little prince—as soon as you touch the spindle."

Bryan stared at the sorcerer as his words sank in. His heart pounded in his chest, looking at the wheel looming large and black before him. Whatever was going to happen when he touched that thing, it couldn't be good.

"Choose wisely,_ Bryan_," murmured the sorcerer. "Simply do as I say, and your precious Petra goes free as a bird. Isn't she worth saving?..."

He watched Petra straining against her bonds. A cry of agony escaped her lips, and the sight was like a dagger in his gut. He was selfish even to hesitate this long. He could _never_ let her die.

Without further delay, he reached out his hand.

The piercing pain in his finger caused him to gasp. He watched the blood welling on the tip of his finger, suddenly overcome by a drowsiness more potent than anything he had ever known. As the sorcerer's maniacal laugh rang in his ears, heavy dark curtains closed across his vision, and he fell into blackness.

* * *

"Up here!" yelled Aspen, and the Sparrow Men shot up the tower. "Bryan!_ Bryan!_—"

Bursting through the doorway at the top, they all froze in horror. Bryan lay lifeless on the floor, the sorcerer standing over him.

_"Shh…"_ said Malefor. _"The prince is sleeping."_

He threw back his head and, laughing like a madman, disappeared in a triumphant burst of green flame.


	6. Chapter 6: Capture and Rescue

When she heard the door creak, Petra's head snapped up. She hoped it might be someone bringing water—her mouth was dry—but as light streamed into the dungeon, she instead saw her captor silhouetted in the doorway. He smirked at her, Storm the raven perched on his shoulder.

"I must give you credit, my lady," he said. "You certainly put up a good fight."

Malefor walked towards her, lighting the torches with a flick of his hand. Petra glared at him before she turned her head away.

"I'm fortunate indeed. My dungeons haven't seen so noble a guest in quite a long time. Are you enjoying your stay, princess?"

She clamped her mouth shut. She was not about to dignify this monster's taunts with a response.

"Ah, you're giving me the silent treatment, I see. While silence is becoming of a woman, ignoring me won't cause me to vanish."

"I have nothing to say to you," she said.

"Yet it would seem you just said something," the sorcerer chuckled.

"If you're here just to taunt me, you can get out."

"Moody, are we, princess? Come now. Don't you want to know what became of your True Love?"

_That_ brought her head around. "He's not my true love. We just met _yesterday,_ for g*d's sakes."

"Really?" said Malefor. "What a pity. Here I was, thinking that you were the only one who could possibly pose a threat to my curse…"

"What curse? What did you do to him!?" Petra jumped up, trying not to wince as the chains pulled on her already-raw wrists and ankles. "I swear, if you hurt him, I'll kill you!—"

The sorcerer laughed.

"Don't worry, my lady; the prince is quite safe. I assure you, I have not laid a finger on him."

"Wait—the _prince?_" she said. "What are you talking about?"

"Ah, yes. I forgot, you know him only by the peasant name those vermin gave him. Bryan." The sorcerer grinned, leaning on his staff. "What a strange twist of fate, that two young royal hearts should find one another so far from the halls of a castle—the Princess Petra and the long-lost Prince Rory of Glairwen."

"What!? What do you mean?" she said.

The sorcerer raised his hand, conjuring an image in midair.

"See for yourself."

Petra stared, not quite believing her eyes. It was Bryan, lying on a bed in a luxurious tower room. He was dressed in the finest clothes, a crown resting on his head. He seemed to be asleep—she caught the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath his folded hands.

Her mind whirled. As a child, she had heard many stories of the neighboring kingdom's young prince, cursed by a wicked sorcerer. Was it possible? Could Bryan really be him?

"Even now, he lies imprisoned in eternal sleep, awaiting the kiss of True Love that would awaken him…" Malefor grinned. "What a shame that his feelings don't seem to be reciprocated."

"Bryan! Bryan, no, please—!" She let out an involuntary cry of pain as the chains bit into her wrists.

"It's as I told those vermin fairies years ago," said Malefor. "True Love is nothing more than a childish fantasy. But unlike them, at least the princess is pragmatic enough to admit it."

"No!—" Petra felt a lump rising in her throat. "Then why take _me?_"

"Insurance." The sorcerer smirked. "I know the way the boy's loving heart works. He would do anything to save his alleged true love, be it throw himself in front of a wolf, or touch a spindle and condemn himself to everlasting sleep."

Realization crashed over her. She lunged for the sorcerer, ignoring the searing pain in her wrists, but her bonds wouldn't budge. Her scream of rage mingled with the sorcerer's laughter, echoing off the dungeon walls.

"Come, Storm. It would seem we've upset the princess. Let us give her some time alone," said Malefor. He turned in a swish of his black cloak and strode out the door, which slammed behind him. Petra sank to the ground, tears welling in her eyes, but she refused to cry. If Bryan never awoke, it was all her fault. But True Love couldn't come at first sight. It just _couldn't._ What was she supposed to do?

Exhausted, her head aching from thirst, she lay down on the dirty floor, where she huddled until she finally fell asleep.

* * *

A powerful hand pressed down on her mouth. Petra jolted awake with a cry, struggling, but stopped as she saw a brown-haired young man crouching above her.

_"Shh."_ He pressed a finger urgently to his lips. _"Princess Petra. We're here to help you, but you mustn't make a sound. If we're discovered, it will mean all of our deaths. Do you understand?"_

She nodded. The man removed his hand from her mouth and, together with a second man, helped her to sit up. Her jaw dropped as she saw the wings on their backs.

"Who_ are_ you?" she tried to croak, but just started coughing as her throat was dry as sandpaper.

"Here." The second man held a cup of water to her lips, and she sipped greedily. The first man touched his fingers to her pounding head, and the pain suddenly vanished.

"My name is Aspen, and this is Cedar and Pine," he said, gesturing to the third winged man, who was keeping watch by the door. "We are Sparrow Men, the ones who raised the Prince Rory in Talemath Forest."

"You're Bryan's uncles?" she said.

"Yes, princess. And it's for him that we're here. You must go to him. You're the only one who can break the curse."

"But—no. I can't!" she whispered. "I—I don't know if I'm his True Love. We've only known each other for a day. I don't know if I can wake him up!"

"As long as even the possibility exists, you must try," said Aspen. "There is no one else."

"Please, princess," said Cedar. "You're Bryan's only hope."

Petra hesitated, but then she clamped her mouth shut. Now was not the time to be doubting herself. The fairies were right. As long as there was even the remotest possibility that she could help Bryan, she had to try.

"Okay." She nodded.

"Thank you, Princess," said Aspen. He and Cedar reached down and touched her chains, which broke open.

"The prince currently lies in the highest tower of Glairwen Castle, to the south," said Aspen. Petra stood and made for the door, but the Sparrow Men stopped her.

"Wait, princess! The road ahead will be full of peril. You cannot go out unarmed," said Aspen.

A soft breeze blew through the dungeon, and Petra gasped as she suddenly found herself holding a sword and shield unlike any she'd ever seen before. Lighter than regular weapons, they were carved with symbols and glowed faintly with a white light.

"Take this Sword of Truth, and this Shield of Faith. They are gifts from the fairies. With these weapons of righteousness, you may yet triumph over Malefor's evil."

Petra gazed at the weapons, her heart pounding. For Bryan, she told herself. For Bryan.

"Okay. Let's do this."

But no sooner had they stepped outside the dungeon than they heard an ear-piercing screech. Storm the Raven had been sitting perched above the door. At the sight of the group, he raised his wings and took off down the corridor, shrieking, the torches bursting into flame.

"Quick, Princess!" Pine pointed in the other direction. "Hurry!"


	7. Chapter 7: The Thorn In His Side

Petra streaked through the dank hallways, the fairies leading the way. As she turned a corner, the door at the end of the passageway suddenly burst open and into the hallway poured creatures with leathery skin and heavy iron weapons.

"Goblins!" yelled Aspen. Petra turned and ran back the way she'd come, only to find more goblins advancing on her from the other direction. She backed up, trapped in the middle.

"This way!" shouted Pine; she looked up to see the Sparrow Man gesturing to a nearby staircase.

She raced up the stairs, the goblins' shrieks and snarls growing ever closer behind her. Partway up, the staircase began to crumble away, ending at a gaping hole in the wall. Petra hesitated briefly on the edge of the precipice. Looking down, she saw Samuel chained in the courtyard below. If she could just get down there—!

There came a snarl behind her, and she whirled around to find that the first of the goblins had caught up with her. It raised its spear, ready to plunge it into her stomach. Instinctively, she thrust her sword forward. The goblin screamed as the blade pierced its chest, before its body crumbled into dust. More of them charged at her up the stairs; one by one, she turned them all to ash.

"Princess! You can't stay there!" she heard Cedar cry. "You have to get out!"

Pulling her sword out of a goblin, Petra raced back to the hole in the wall and quickly lowered herself out. She began to make her way down the side of the tower, her feet searching frantically for jutting stones.

A spear whizzed by her head and she gasped. The rest of the goblins had reached the hole and were leaning out, trying to strike her down. Hooking her sword arm around a stone, she reflexively brought her shield up above her head; an axe glanced off it with a dull thunk. She looked down. She was still a good fifteen feet above the ground, but she didn't have a choice. She let go, doing her best to aim towards the giant pile of crumbling stone to her left.

She felt the sensation of falling, then she hit the stones with a jolt that threatened to snap her ankles. Immediately she began to slide downwards; she bent her knees and rolled down the pile at a breathtaking speed, stones jabbing her from all angles. Ignoring her bruises, she leapt up, dodging more spears and clubs as she grabbed her sword and shield, and sprinted for the courtyard.

When she reached Samuel, he whinnied as he saw her. With a touch from Aspen, the chain around the horse's ankle burst open. Petra vaulted into the saddle, and together they galloped towards the great arching exit.

"Petra, look out!" yelled Cedar suddenly; she whipped her head around to see a legion of goblins standing on the castle walls, all aiming at her with crossbows. Before she could even blink, they fired, the arrows whizzing towards her. She went to raise her shield, but Aspen quickly darted in front and, with a wave of his hand, turned all of the arrows into twigs and flowers. They battered against her harmlessly, and she turned her sights once more towards the gate, leaning forward against Samuel's neck.

They were almost there when Storm the raven swooped down on them. In a flash of green, he transformed into the great black wolf from the forest, landing in front of them. It bared its teeth; saliva dripped from its lips, and it lunged.

"JUMP!" cried Pine, and she charged forward. With a swoosh of his arm, there was a terrible crunching noise, and the beast turned completely to stone. Petra and Samuel went sailing over its head. She heard the sorcerer's roar of rage, and turned around just long enough to see his dark silhouette at the top of the fortress' tallest tower. Then, suddenly, they were through the main gate, beginning to make their way down the steep slope of the Forbidden Mountain.

Malefor raised his staff, sending a spell flying down towards the pair. It struck the ground right behind them, leaving a smoking crater. Petra pressed herself against Samuel, urging him to go faster, but as they flew along, the ground suddenly began to tremble beneath them. Glancing back, her heart stopped as she saw the dark earth splinter and detach from the mountainside, gaining speed as it thundered towards them.

Samuel was galloping so fast he was practically tripping over his hooves, but they'd never be able to outrun it. The great cloud of earth and stone was hurtling towards them at a breakneck pace. Looking forward, she spotted an outcropping of boulders up ahead, and knew it was their only chance. As they whizzed past it, she grabbed Samuel's reigns and brought them skidding around, urging him back up the mountain.

_"Princess!"_ the Sparrow Men yelled, as they saw her seemingly heading straight into the landslide. She crouched low at the base of the rocks as the thundering sound grew deafening. The ground shook so violently she could barely keep her balance, and then rivers of earth and stones began to race past, shooting over the tops of the boulders. But her plan worked. The outcropping acted like a breaker, protecting them from the flow.

Atop his tower, Malefor laughed in triumph as the landslide engulfed the rocks, the princess disappearing from view. Foolish girl! he thought, as he watched the river of earth grind slowly to a halt, sending dark clouds of dust billowing into the air. For a terrifying moment, there was silence-but then, all of a sudden, a shape stirred out of the smoke. Dazed, but miraculously unhurt, Petra clambered back onto her horse. Sliding a little on the loose earth, they raced onward down the mountain, heading straight for Theodore's castle.

The sorcerer let out a roar of rage, and raised his staff. Lightning crackled as he began to conjure a great cloud of sinister green magic.

"Very well, princess! For the thorn in my side that you have proven to be, they shall be your tomb!"

He thrust the staff forward, and the curse snaked off through the darkening skies. As it surrounded Glairwen castle in the distance, the ground around the castle split open, a forest of gnarled, thorny branches exploding out of the cracks. In no time, they had grown as high as the castle wall, spreading towards Petra at lightning speed. Before she could react, they were surrounded by the wicked-looking brambles.

She screamed as the thorns stabbed at her. Several caught her red cloak from behind, nearly yanking her from the saddle. She lashed out furiously at the thick branches with her sword, not expecting it to do much damage, but to her surprise, the blade sliced through the wood like butter. Of course. Her sword was enchanted!

Without hesitation, she turned and began to slash a path forward through the briars. As though they could sense her resistance, the thorns grew longer the farther she got, digging into her flesh, tearing her clothes. Just as it seemed like the briars were finally beginning to thin, several of the branches suddenly shot forward and lashed themselves around her wrists and ankles, like thorny chains. Before they could drag her backwards into the thicket, Petra cut through the branches and ran on, ignoring her bleeding wrists.

Finally, she pushed back a stray branch with her shield to see Glairwen Castle straight up ahead. Her heart leaping, she launched herself onto Samuel's back and galloped up the stone bridge, exhilaration setting in. She'd done it. She'd won!

Then, all of a sudden, the bridge in front of her exploded in green flames. Samuel reared; Petra raised her sword as Malefor appeared before her.

_"Alas, princess, you force my hand," _he thundered, raising his arms. _"Now you shall have to deal with __**ME!...**__"_

There was a colossal explosion. The sorcerer erupted in a column of fire; Petra jolted back, horrified, as he transformed into a monstrous black dragon right before her eyes. Her blood ran cold, seeing its razor-sharp teeth and claws like daggers. But if she was going to die, she was sure as hell taking this bastard down with her.

She lowered her head, kicked Samuel's sides, and charged the beast head on.


	8. Chapter 8: The Achilles' Heel

As Petra galloped straight towards the sorcerer, he opened his jaws and released a stream of green fire towards her. She brought her shield up just in time, but the impact knocked her backwards off her horse. She quickly scrambled up as she saw the dragon gearing up for another fireball, leaping backwards just in time. The second jet of flame exploded right in front of her, cracking the stones in the pathway. The light was so bright, she almost didn't see the great black jaws heading straight for her.

She swung her sword, but it merely glanced off the dragon's scales, as though she were fighting with a wooden stick. Her heart dropped into her stomach, but she kept lashing out, trying to thwart the monster's continual attempts to skewer her in its fangs. Then she almost tripped backwards over a thorny vine, and found herself backed up to the edge of the forest of brambles. He'd meant for them to be her death, but maybe now they could be her saving grace. Ripping off her easily-spottable cloak, Petra turned and ran into the briars, praying for camouflage.

The sorcerer continued to lunge and snap at where she should have been, but she kept moving, changing direction as she snaked through the branches. At last, she paused, peering out to see the sorcerer roaring in frustration. She tried to get her breath. She needed a plan.

Carefully, she crept back towards the path she had carved out, before she stomped deliberately on a fallen branch. The sharp crack brought the dragon's head around, its yellow eyes narrowing. Petra raced to the nearest tree and hoisted herself up onto a sturdy branch, where she crouched, gripping her sword, her heart throwing itself against her ribs.

The dragon lowered its snout into the brambles in search of its prey. The acrid gray smoke from its nostrils made Petra's eyes sting, but she kept them open. She waited until its black scales were almost directly beneath her, before she pounced, landing right on the monster's snout. Her blade in both hands, she aimed straight for its closest eye.

The sorcerer screamed and thrashed as the blade pierced the flesh, the yellow iris of the eye clouding with white. Petra tumbled to the ground, by some miracle managing to hold onto her sword. He lunged at her; she rolled out of the way of his jaws and back into the cover of the forest, intending to make her way to his blind side, but the sorcerer had other plans. With a roar, he reared upwards and sent a jet of green fire shooting down into the brambles, which instantly caught fire, growing into an inferno in a matter of seconds. Petra ran for her life from the flames, but eventually found herself penned against the face of a cliff.

"Up! Climb up!" she heard a cry. She looked up to see the Sparrow Men at the top of the cliff. "This way!"

Out of options, she did as they said, pulling herself hand-over-hand up the wall. The sorcerer, immune to the fire, lunged for her, but luckily, his newly-blinded eye threw him off. His open jaws crashed into the cliff right next to her; she nearly lost her grip, but somehow managed to reach the top.

Once on solid ground, Petra immediately scrambled up, raising her sword. The cliff was narrow, its end overlooking a deep gorge, and the sorcerer grinned as he forced her further and further back towards the edge. She struck again and again, trying to fend him off, but she was running out of ground.

Eventually, as the dragon snapped at her, Petra leapt back and felt her heels scrape the edge. She managed to regain her balance, but just at that moment, the sorcerer sent a burst of flame towards her. It caught the underside of her shield, and she felt it fly off of her arm, tumbling down into the gorge below.

Malefor laughed, seeing the horror on Petra's burned and bleeding face. He paused as she looked around helplessly, trapped, choking on the acrid smoke.

"What a _wonderful_ sight. The oh-so-clever little princess brought finally to her knees," he hissed, his voice dripping with venom. "Your special sword cannot pierce my scales, foolish girl! How I shall relish this moment: the prince's final hope going up in flames!"

The sorcerer reared up, his mouth opening wide, and in that instant, Petra saw it. Her own last hope. With every ounce of strength she had left, she gripped her sword and hurled it at the dragon, aiming for its soft gray underbelly.

It happened as though in slow motion. The blade plunged into the dragon's flesh, directly over its heart. Malefor let out a terrible scream, blood pouring from the edges of the wound. His one eye filled with fear and hatred, he swayed and fell forward, his jaws open. Petra leapt out of the way just in time, as the sorcerer crashed into the cliff and tumbled off the edge in a shower of boulders and earth.

She found herself clinging to the remnants of the ledge; she struggled to get back up before it crumbled away underneath her. When she finally succeeded, she immediately slumped to the ground, trembling and exhausted. Waves of previously unfelt pain washed over her, and she sank down into blackness.


	9. Chapter 9: No Truer Love

There was something soft nudging at her cheek. Petra's eyes drifted open, and as the world swam back into focus, she saw Samuel's gray muzzle hovering over her.

"Princess!" came an urgent voice. The Sparrow Men were kneeling beside her. "Are you alright?"

" 'mokay," she mumbled automatically, realizing as she spoke that her pain had lessened. Her burns had been partially healed, and the ankle she was sure she had sprained was restored.

"I'm sorry we weren't able to do more," Cedar apologized, helping her to sit up. "We are not healers, so our abilities are limited."

"The dragon!" Petra's eyes suddenly snapped open as memories of the battle came flooding back, her hand flying to her belt for a sword that wasn't there. "Where is he!? What happened!?—"

"Be calm, princess." Aspen placed a hand on her shoulder. "Everything is alright. The sorcerer is dead."

"Really?" she said. The fairies led her to the edge of the cliff, and peering down into the gorge, she saw all that remained of her foe: a pool of smoking black tar, her sword stuck upright in the middle. The blade's light had faded, turning an ugly gray, as though tainted by the darkness of the heart it had stabbed.

"You did it, Princess," said Pine. "Malefor has been vanquished."

Petra's brow furrowed. She looked up at castle towers, silhouetted against the sky, finding the tallest one.

"No. Not yet."

* * *

Petra hurried through the castle, stepping carefully over the sleeping bodies of sentries and servants. To spare the king and queen from grief, the Sparrow Men had combined their magic to put the whole castle to sleep along with the prince. As if she'd needed any more pressure—now an entire castle's worth of people was depending on her to wake them up. But the one she really cared about was Bryan.

She followed the Sparrow Men to the bottom of a long, winding staircase. Pine made to go up, but Aspen held him back, gesturing for her to go on.

"We'll wait here, Princess. Don't be afraid."

She stared up the dark passageway. Hesitating.

"Princess?"

"I…" She swallowed. After all this running, why wouldn't her feet move all of a sudden?

As though he could read her thoughts, Cedar came forward, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Remember, no one has Truer Love than this, that they lay down their life for a friend," he said gently.

Petra nodded, took a deep breath, and headed up the stairs. They spiraled higher and higher, until she finally pushed open a door and found herself in the room from the sorcerer's vision. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw Bryan, lying motionless on the bed atop the silken blankets. She approached him cautiously.

His face was pale, the traces of a smile on his lips. Her heart throwing itself against her ribs, she wiped off her mouth and took a deep breath, thinking of the song that Bryan had sung in the woods that day:

_"Why should thy cheek be pale,_  
_Shaded with sorrow's veil?_  
_Why should'st thou grieve me?_  
_I will never, never leave thee…"_

"You'd better have meant that, Bryan," she whispered. Before she lost her nerve, she bent over and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

The very room itself seemed to take a breath. All of a sudden, Bryan's cheeks flooded with color, and his eyes fluttered open, their blue like the sky after a storm.

"Bryan!?" she gasped.

"…Petra? Is that you?" he said, looking up at her.

"Yes. Yes, it's me," she said, trying to keep her voice from squeaking.

"What happened?" he said, taking in her injuries. "Are you okay!? What—"

He was cut off as Petra suddenly engulfed him in a hug. The tears she had held back for so long spilled out onto his shoulder.

"Am I okay?" she choked out, half-laughing. "Bryan, you idiot. You utter, utter idiot!"

* * *

The doors to the infirmary burst open. Bryan, who was standing by while the royal physicians treated Petra, looked up as a man and a woman raced inside. His jaw dropped. Were these his—?

The faces of the king and queen were lined from years of sorrow and worry, but their radiant smiles they wore as they looked at him made them seem years younger. Remembering his manners, he bowed; Petra nodded respectfully from her bed.

The queen pressed her hands to her mouth, stifling a sob, and opened her arms. Bryan hesitated only briefly, before he walked into them.

"Rory," she said, tears rippling in her voice. "Oh, Rory! You're here! You're safe!"

"Mother," he said, squeezing his eyes shut against the lump threatening to rise in his throat. When she let go, Theodore gripped Bryan's shoulders, shaking him slightly, as if he couldn't quite believe he was there.

"My son," he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. "Welcome home."

"Thank you, Father," said Bryan, and the word felt weird and sad and wonderful in his mouth, all at the same time. Petra watched them, beaming.

"Oh!" Bryan suddenly remembered, and hurried back over to her, taking her hand. "Mother, Father—this is Petra. She's the Princess of Chiraeon. She saved me from the curse, and defeated Malefor for good. He'll never threaten anyone ever again."

"You have our unending gratitude, Princess," said Theodore.

"It's lovely to meet you, Petra," said Miriam warmly. "How wonderful that Rory has found his True Love!"

"Um—" Petra glanced at Bryan. He blushed beet red, looking down at his tunic.

Oh boy. They were going to need to have a serious conversation about this.

* * *

It was almost time. Bryan tugged on the clasp of his blue cape. Just how many hundreds of people _were_ downstairs, awaiting their future king? He would probably trip and fall flat on his face in the middle of the hall, in front of everyone.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps. He turned and his jaw dropped as he saw Petra walking towards him.

"Wow!" he said. "You're—I mean, you look…"

"Beautiful?" Petra supplied with a grin.

"Yes," he said. She looked so clean and healthy, dressed in a regal red-and-black gown, with long sleeves that hid the bandages on her arms. Her hair was still long even after they had trimmed off the burned ends, tumbling freely down her shoulders.

"Thank you," she said. "You look pretty nice yourself."

Bryan smiled and ducked his head, sweeping back his hair.

"Careful." She reached up and made his bangs lie flat again. "You don't want to look like a cow licked you right before you came downstairs."

"How do you know what that looks like?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

"Um…" She pursed her lips, looking off to the side. "Never mind. Let's just concentrate on getting through this ball in one piece."

The trumpets sounded, giving them their cue. Bryan took a deep breath and readjusted his crown. Sensing his nervousness, Petra looked over at him and took his arm.

"…I used to run off and hide in the royal dairy when I was a kid," she whispered. "I'd bury myself in the piles of hay, so sometimes an unsuspecting cow would get a mouthful of my hair along with its dinner."

Bryan grinned at her, and together they descended the grand staircase.

As they emerged into the great hall, a deafening cheer arose from the crowd at the sight of the prince. They made their way over to the king and queen, who stood with Petra's father. She glanced over at him, and to her surprise, he gave her an approving nod. Apparently this time he felt that her disobedience had been for a worthy cause.

"My people," said Theodore, spinning Bryan around to face the crowd. "Many of you know the curse that was placed on our house eighteen long years ago, a curse that has now been broken. I am overjoyed to present to you my son and successor, Prince Rory!"

The crowd exploded in cheers.

"I also give you the young lady responsible for ending the curse, Princess Petra of Chiraeon, daughter of his majesty, King Peter," he said. Petra bowed her head gracefully.

"As of this moment, I hereby proclaim a new alliance with Chiraeon. They shall have our loyalty in both times of trouble and prosperity, and from this day forward, our two kingdoms shall dwell in peace and harmony." He looked at Bryan and Petra, his eyes twinkling. "And perhaps, one day, they shall even join together."

"That would be quite satisfactory," said King Peter, a rare smile gracing his face.

Petra looked straight ahead, her cheeks growing hot, while Bryan shifted beside her. Fortunately, the celebration began soon after, the orchestra striking up a lively tune.

_Thank g*d._ Petra grabbed Bryan's hand, quickly pulling him out onto the floor.

"Come on."

"What? What are we doing?" he said.

"Dancing."

"Oh, no—Petra, I can't dance," he blurted.

"I'll show you. Let's just get away from all that," she said, jerking her head in their parents' direction.

She showed him where to place his hands, one on her waist, the other clasping hers. It actually didn't turn out to be as hard as he'd first thought.

"Is there anything you_ don't_ do well?" he asked her.

"Well, embroidery, for one thing," she said, which made him laugh. "Seriously. G*d, you should see my samplers. But yeah, I'm not so good at that. I'm also not very good at being subtle, or at talking about how I feel, or…" She glanced down at her feet. "Or at even knowing what I'm feeling."

"How _are_ you feeling?" he asked, concerned.

"…You mean, health-wise?" she said. "I actually feel pretty great, considering I fought a dragon yesterday."

"Are you sure?" he said.

"Yeah. The burns still hurt a little, but don't worry. I'll be fine."

"Sorry," he said. "I just—I figured someone ought to worry about you."

"Here we go again," she said. "You've got to stop being so stupidly noble, Bryan."

"No way." He shook his head stubbornly. "Not if it means saving you."

"Then—is it really true what Malefor said?" she asked. "That you did it to—to save me?"

He hesitated, before he finally nodded.

"Bryan!"

"Hey, _you_ fought a dragon to save _me_," he protested. "I'm not the only one who sacrificed himself here!"

"Fair enough." Petra smiled. "Maybe we're _both_ noble idiots, then."

Bryan looked at the floor.

"Thank you," he mumbled. "Thanks for saving me, Petra."

"Well, if you think for a single second that you're not worth saving, you're wrong," she said playfully.

He smiled. They were so close, he could almost count the freckles on her nose.

"My uncles always told me that there was no truer love than laying down one's life for a friend," he said.

"Yeah," she said. She was suddenly hyper-aware of his hand against her waist. "They told me that, too."

He started to fumble his words.

"But then…then, does that mean that—that we're—?"

"Does that mean I'm your True Love?" she finished, their foreheads almost touching.

Bryan nodded, sure that he could've fried an egg in the heat radiating from his cheeks. She took a deep breath.

"Honestly…I don't know. I don't think either of us can know after only a couple of days."

His face fell, and he quickly pulled away.

"I-I'm sorry. You're right. Sorry."

"But I'm not ruling it out," she said softly.

His head jerked back up so fast he heard his neck crack, and Petra laughed.

"Really?" he said.

"Really," she said, smiling. "Let's just…take it slow. Okay?"

He smiled back.

"That sounds good to me."


End file.
